


Strange Birds

by rlb190



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Azazel's Special Children (Supernatural), Blood and Injury, DJ Qualls said gay rights, Dean at the FBI, F/F, F/M, Gen, Grave Robbers, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Interrogation, JJ knows, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, Murder, No beta reader, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, We Die Like Men, criminal minds/supernatural, fuck that guy, lawboy, who does john winchester think he is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28767129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rlb190/pseuds/rlb190
Summary: JJ has a very big secret. A supernatural secret.When on a case in Alabama with the BAU, JJ meets up with an old friend.She should have known the day was going to end with digging up a grave.It always ended up that way with the Winchesters.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau & Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester & The BAU Team
Comments: 28
Kudos: 103





	1. Loose Lips Sink Ships

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I love the idea of the BAU being involved with the Winchesters. Let me know what y'all think. High key too tired to format. Still in Africa with Doctors Without Borders. Im a very tired person okay?
> 
> TW: implied/referenced underage sex work, mild blood, the legal process

When Jennifer Jareau saw the file, she knew this was going to be one of those cases.

It was small compared to the others she often received, but this one was different. She took the file and put it into her bag.

She sent a simple text message, and her phone buzzed back almost at once, telling her a place and time. Ray’s Diner at 12pm.

JJ checked the clock on the wall in the Mobile Alabama police station. The team was searching for a killer, what else is new, but things had been going so smoothly she had tried to catch up on some work.

She was delighted at the text. She had no idea he was in Alabama. It would make things much, much easier. At ten minutes ‘till, she popped her head into the office that the BAU had borrowed from the station. Hotch was the only one there, sipping bad coffee from a foam cup.

“I’m going to get lunch.” she informed him. Hotch barely looked up from his work but gave her a grunt, so JJ took that as a good sign. She grabbed her bag, double checking that her wallet was in there,  _ she was going to pay the check this time dammit _ , and headed out the door. The diner was only a few short blocks from the police station, and even in her heels she found the walk a fast one.

The sun was shining bright, hardly a cloud in the sky. Despite this, she still shivered, suddenly wishing for the coat she had left back at the station. It wasn’t so bad, standing in the sun, but JJ knew that it would get cooler as the day went on. She made a mental note to remember to grab her coat as she found the correct address. She maybe was enjoying the sunshine a little too much, because when she checked her watch she was about five minutes late. He was never late whenever they met.

JJ walked into the diner, her deft eyes searching the room until she saw him. Tall as ever, less lanky than when they have first started their little alliance. She walked up to the booth he was sitting at and slid into the seat across from him.

“What are you doing in Alabama?” she asked him.

Sam Winchester smiled over his coffee cup, half risen to his lips.

“Good to see you.”

They exchanged their usual pleasantries as they normally did whenever they had to meet in person. Years ago they often had to call one another to try and find a time to pass information to one another. The Winchesters had no permanent address, and besides that, mailing sensitive files didn’t seem like a good idea. For a few years, JJ would send word to Bobby Singer, another man in the trade, but those times had long since passed. Nowadays JJ would just email the information to either of the Winchesters, although she did much prefer Sam to his brother. Sam had a gentler quality about him than his brother, even if he had acted weirdly callous for a while some years back. 

Still, email sometimes didn’t always cut it. Whenever something was seriously strange and needed more than a simple phone call or message, they would try to meet up. It had been easier when JJ was on maternity leave, with her husband at work and nothing to do, she was able to leave Henry with a sitter and meet Sam without wondering, questioning eyes and excuses. This wasn’t one of those cases, but Sam mentioned he was in the area, so they might as well catch up while he was in town.

“How’s Henry?” Sam asked, watching the waitress walk away with their orders. 

“Fine. He’s really into Dinosaurs right now.” 

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Wasn’t it space last time?”

JJ smiled and reached for her coffee cup. “Yes. I’m sure in a few months it’ll be… cowboys or something.”

Sam haphazardly laughed. He looked tired, she noticed. He always looks tired now.

“I’m glad he’s doing alright. Anyway, I’m here on a job. Actually, we just finished. Dean’s out taking care of cleanup.”

The FBI agent nodded thoughtfully. 

“What was it this time?”

“Ghost, believe it or not. Probably one of the most normal paranormal hunts we’ve done in a long time. We got a phone call from an old friend, actually. Katie Walker. She’s a teacher at a school nearby and gave us a heads up.”

JJ searched her mind, trying to recall a ‘Walker’. She scrunched her nose.

“The flight attendant?”

“Her sister.”

“Ah! Well, that was before my time.” JJ said. Sam nodded in agreement. They both quieted for a moment, recalling Gideon. JJ hadn’t known anything about the supernatural for years working at the FBI, but Gideon did. He never quite explained to her how he had come across it, but he was a longtime friend and contact of Sam’s father, John. After a rather nasty case in St. Louis involved hearts being ripped out, Gideon has introduced JJ to John and Dean. Sam had been in school at the time. JJ hadn’t believed Giden at first, but she came around quickly after seeing a werewolf firsthand during that St. Louis trip.

When Gideon died, JJ wondered where things were going to end up. When she had a case, she called Dean Winchester directly, and Sam had picked up the phone. They had met at a dive bar in Maryland where Sam and Dean explained about their father, car accident, and their hunt for the demon that had killed their mother. JJ had held a working relationship with the Winchesters ever since.

As odd as things were, they had fallen to a routine over the years. Maybe once every three months JJ would send them the cases she thought might be in the area of expertise compared to theirs at the BAU. Sam would send her details about cases that seemed more like the BAU’s realm than supernatural. They helped one another out on a regular basis.

In fact, it was beneficial to JJ and her family. She kept things safe around her home, adding salt to the foundation of her house when they were re-doing it from some water damage, keeping holy water handy and, of course, the tattoo. She had gotten it just after that whole Roanoke fiasco (which still had the FBI scratching their heads, by the way). It was on her ribcage, an easy enough spot to keep hidden from prying eyes. She told Will it was from a book series she liked, which wasn’t a total lie. She had read the books that Sam had told her about. She thought they were hilarious, much to Sam’s chagrin. The Winchester had helped her prepare for threats she didn’t know existed, and she was grateful for that.

She always kept some salt in the office, just in case.

When she first learned the truth, she was paranoid, always looking over her shoulder. But that was then, and this was now. She had gotten used to the idea of other worldly threats. It didn’t make it any easier to deal with them, of course but it was a small line of defense against the unknown. 

Their food arrived and they dug in. JJ had come during her lunch break and she was planning to eat, damn it. Sam looked just as ravenous as she, and ate his fries with equal gusto.

“So, what do you have for me?” Sam asked, once he stopped eating to breathe. JJ swallowed her mouthful of sandwich before speaking.

“Mmm, nothing too crazy right now,” she reached into her bag and produced a small stack of files she had been saving over the past few months. 

“A few bodies in Bisbee, Arizona with missing heads… let’s see, uh, there were a couple of bodies in Round Rock, Texas with some suspicious animal bites on them... uh, oh, this one’s weird!” She opened the file she was talking about to a picture. It looked like a massive spider web in a darkened cave, wrapped around a human-shaped form. “This was found in South Carolina. Three deaths from spider venom in the course of a year, each victim covered in spider webs.”

Sam took the file and frowned at it. “What are they saying?”

JJ shrugged and went back to her food. “Some new type of spider-hybrid. Like killer hornets, but spiders.”

The man nodded and took the remaining files off the table and put them into his own bag. He picked up a fry thoughtfully. 

“Might be Archnaes. Rare, but not unheard of. I dealt with them years ago.. Dobbs said something about them being scattered. Still, South Carolina is far from Rhode Island.”

“Giant spider people? No thank you. You can take that one.” JJ said miserably. Sam gave her a weak smile.

“Yeah. Well, I don’t have much for you. Just a place in Benson, Arizona. We went out there because of some dismemberments, but it seems more like your territory than ours.” 

Sam wiped his hands off on a paper napkin and passed JJ a file of his own, not as crisp and office-ready as hers were, but good enough.

JJ took it and slipped it into her bag without looking at it. 

“I can’t get the team out there unless we’re invited, but I’m sure a phone call wouldn’t hurt. Maybe I can convince them to extend an invitation. “

They went back to eating, each inhaling their food. When they were done and the plates cleared, they both got refills on their coffee. Sam drank deeply from his own cup with more fervor than usual, leaving JJ concerned.

“Okay. What’s up?” JJ asked him. Sam looked up from the table.

“What?”

JJ narrowed her eyes at him. He sighed in defeat.

“Just... I’ve been having headaches recently. It’s been keeping me up”

JJ frowned. Something in Sam’s expression said that he wasn’t telling the whole truth,but she didn’t want to push it. She knew where their boundaries were, and despite her deep appreciation for the man, she knew that if he didn’t want to talk about it and it wouldn’t endanger anyone, she didn’t push. Still, she disapproved and from Sam’s expression, he could tell.

“Sam…” she warned lightly.

“It’s fine.” Sam said softly, ending the conversation.

They sat in silence, sipping their coffee.

JJ’s phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket. It was Hotch. She held up a finger at Sam, who nodded and answered the call.

“Hello?”

“JJ, we need you back at the office. We’ve finally caught him.”

JJ’s heart skipped a beat. Caught him? Caught who? _Foyet? One of the Romani brothers?_

“Who?”

“Dean Winchester.”


	2. silence tells me secretly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clap your hands if you have no self control for when you post
> 
> *clap clap clap clap*
> 
> TW: implied/referenced underage prostitutions

JJ walked into the police department as quickly as she could without her pace being alarming to her co-workers. It was always hard to keep secrets at the BAU.

She met Morgan in the hallway. He was practically buzzing with excitement.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Hotch and I found him by the graveyard just outside of town. Sick bastard was walking around with a shovel trying to dig someone up.”

JJ followed Morgan to the interrogation room, where the one-way mirror was. Sure as the sun rose in the east was Dean WInchester. He was sitting in a chair, handcuffed to the metal table, facing the mirror. He had a rapidly swelling black eye that looked painful, but he didn’t seem to mind. He looked calm, boredom even, tapping his fingers out in an even rhythm on the table.

_ Tap. tap tap. Tap. tap-tap-tap. Tap tap-tap.  _

“Is that Metallica?” JJ wondered out loud. Morgan gave her a look.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Hotch was sitting on the other side of the table, a stack of boxes next to him.  _ Winchester _ was scribbled on the sides.

“Funny seeing you here, Dean. Seeing as you’re supposed to be dead.” Hotch said, voice gravely over the speaker.

Dean, the smug bastard, smiled charmingly at Hotch. He leant back in his chair, like he was discussing lunch plans and not in an interrogation room. 

“Yeah, well, what can I say? I’m like a cockroach.”

“I’ll say.” Morgan muttered. He was holding a thick looking file, which JJ took from him. She flipped it open.

As much as she loved the brothers, they sure were trouble makers. The majority of the stuff Dean was accused of had merit; credit card fraud, abuse of a corpse, aiding and abetting, breaking and entry, attempted burglary of an occupied dwelling… it went on. Dean was no angel, that’s for sure. Dean had done a lot of these things, but then again, he had done them for the right reasons. Sort of.

JJ sighed to herself. Ever since meeting the Winchesters, she had found the lines between black and white getting very, very blurred.

JJ had seen the file before, right after the brothers were declared dead. In fact, they were still officially deceased. An old colleague of Gideon and Hotch’s, Agent Henkrison, before his death, had done so. This… this was not very good.

“How long has he been in there?” JJ asked. 

“About ten minutes. Hasn’t even asked for a lawyer or anything either. He won’t stop talking.”

JJ frowned, looking at the file. On the next page were the details of Dean’s juvenile record. She didn’t even know he had a juvenile record. Morgan saw her puzzled face and explained.

“The records were sealed, but we fast-tracked a court order to unseal them.”

JJ hesitantly ran a hand over the record, unsure, but began reading anyway.

The majority of it was what she had expected. Truancy, Juvenile simple assault, petty theft, minor in possession of alcohol, criminal trespass, resisting an officer without violence…  _ disorderly conduct? _

Disorderly conduct was different in meaning for juveniles than it was adults. It could be anything from fighting public to cursing at a teacher, but those things didn’t seem to fit Dean. 

JJ flipped through the file until she found the affidavit for the disorderly conduct charge and looked it over.

_ Oh, Dean. _

There was a slight buzzing in her ears as she read the report.

  
  
  


**_“On twenty third November 23, 1994 at 0310 hrs, I was dispatched to 962 loggerhead island drive in reference to a disturbance between the occupants. Upon the arrival of OFC VARGAS and myself, we encountered Dean WINCHESTER and Marcus BRISTOL sitting in a parked car in the parking lot of the SeaSide Motel engaged in a sexual act. When OFC VARGAS ordered them out of the car BRISTOL pushed WINCHESTER out of the car and drove off. OFC VARGAS followed in pursuit while I got the boy._ **

**_When I asked him what happened, he stated that BRISTOL is a romantic partner. I searched WINCHESTER who had $200 in twenties on him, a box of condoms. I asked WINCHESTER if he was involved in the selling of sex, which he denied. WINCHESTER stated that BRISTOL was a sexual partner and had not paid him for sex. I took WINCHESTER into custody to talk to the youth outreach counselor.”_ **

The report went on and JJ skimmed the rest. Dean had denied any exchange of sex for money and was given victim information about statutory relationships and got bonded out by Bobby Singer. JJ stiffened when she finished the report. It wasn’t a large leap to conclude what Dean had been doing in that parking lot. 1994… he must have been barely a teenager at the time.

“We have a lot on you, Dean. Aiding and abetting. Attempted murder. Credit card fraud.” Hotch was saying, bringing JJ’s attention back.

“That all?” Dean asked, fingers still tapping away.

“Among other things.”

There was some noise from behind and both Morgan and JJ turned to see the door opening. There was an older woman standing there in a sharp looking pantsuit. She was holding a briefcase and looked a little out of breath.

“What-,” Morgan started to say, but the woman pushed past him and threw the door open to the interrogation room. JJ peered curiously over the woman’s shoulder.

“Mr. Winchester, stop talking. This interrogation is over.” She barked out. Dean shut his mouth.

“Excuse me.” Hotch said.

The woman thrust out her hand and passed Hotch a business card.

“Mara Daniels. I’m Mr. Winchester’s attorney.”   
  


JJ looked at Dean, whose eyebrows were raised in delighted surprise. JJ was sure there was no way that Dean could afford an attorney wearing _ that  _ expensive of a suit. When JJ got off the call at the diner and told Sam about Dean being arrested, he had paid the check and quickly rushed out of the restaurant, holding his phone to his ear. JJ didn’t know that meant he was getting an attorney. 

“I would like to talk to my client. Alone.” Daniels said. Dean finally looked away from his lawyer and saw JJ. He made eye contact, a stupid smile on his face. Daniels followed Dean’s line of sight to JJ and she snapped a finger at JJ.

“She can stay.”

“I-, uh, okay?” JJ said hesitantly. Both Morgan and Hotch looked at her, as if expecting an explanation. Never in her many years of working for the FBI, or even the BAU had she been asked to sit in on a client/attorney meeting.

"Is that okayz/' she found herself asking.

"You're not a special agent, are you? Involved with the investigation of my client?" Daniels asked. JJ shook her head.

"Then yes."

JJ had no idea what was going on or who Mara Daniels was, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. She glanced at Htch and gave him a subtle nod, nonverbally saying to her boss that it would be okay.

Hotch looked grimly from Dean to Daniels and to JJ, before nodding quietly and walking out of the room. Daniels looked back at JJ and motioned her in the room.

“Well, come on then.” she said.

JJ walked into the room as Daniels looked out into the small hallway.

“This is private, agents.”

Morgan muttered something under his breath, but JJ heard him switch the speaker off and Hotch shut the door.

As soon as they were alone, Dean broke into a grin.

“Daniels!” he exclaimed.

Daniels smiled warmly at Dean and set her briefcase on the table, drawing up two chairs for herself and JJ. “Hello Dean. You idiot," she said, not unkindly, "You are very, very lucky I was nearby. Of all the weeks to be at a public defender conference!”

Dean mock pouted. “Ouch.” He had finally stopped tapping his fingers, thank goodness.

JJ sat down next to Daniels across the table from Dean.

“Hey JJ! What are you doing here?” Dean asked her.

“We’re on a case.” she replied.

Daniels sighed into her paperwork she had gathered. "So is Mr. Winchester, I presume. W hat are you doing here?” Daniels asked the man, only to be answered with Dean’s halfhearted shrug.

“How long has it been, that I’ve been your lawyer? Ten years? More? Still, you still manage to get yourself into these situations. The FBI, Dean? Again? Couldn’t you have taken the gift of being declared dead?”

It was Dean’s turn to look grim. “Sorry.”

Daniels sighed again. “It’s fine. Listen, they do have a lot on you, he wasn’t lying. Fortunately, the majority of, through legal loopholes, can be dismissed. Right now, you’re the main suspect in the killing that has happened here in Mobile. I’m hoping you didn’t have anything to do with them?”

Dean shook his head. “No. We’re here on other business.”

Daniels nodded thoughtfully. “That should make it easier. Hopefully I can have you out of here in a few hours without charge. They’ll want proof. Evidence of your alibi.”

JJ cleared her throat. “The first killing was a month ago. The MO involves cutting out people's eyes.”

“That's gross. Anyway, I was in Kansas on another job. You can ask a man named Sonny, he has a boy’s home there.” Dean offered, surprisingly cooperative than he normally was. 

“Okay. I can make a few calls.” Daniels said firmly. Then she leant in a little closer to Dean and spoke much more quietly,

“Do you need anything to finish your hunting trip?” she asked.

Dean leant in as well, serious for what seemed like the first time since JJ had walked into the interrogation. 

“I didn’t get to finish. There’s a grave, Abigail Jones, born 1839 died 1851, in Forest Hill Cemetery, toward the back by the crypts. It needs to be taken care of before anyone else gets hurt. Poltergeist.”

JJ ducked her head a little, trying to be discreet. Despite laws regarding the privacy of the conversation they were having, she wouldn't have put it past either Hotch or Morgan to be trying to read their lips on the other side of the mirror. “Weren’t you and Sam done? He said you were on clean up.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “This is clean up.”

Daniels waved a hand. “Is your work in any way responsible for the deaths that the BAU is investigating?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah, that’s just your normal crazy.”

JJ felt a small pang of relief radiate up her stomach. Secretly, she had been worried about her job and the Winchesters’ job had been connected. Dean’s affirmation that they were separate made her own job a little easier. Normal crazy she could deal with. Supernatural crazy was very much out of her pay grade.

JJ ran a hand through her hair, trying to think. “Okay. Okay, uh, I can go with your brother and finish things up. Daniels can stay here and make sure you don’t say anything you’re not supposed to.” 

She checked her watch. It was just past one in the afternoon. They still hadn’t caught the serial killer here, but JJ was sure that the BAU was close. They already had another suspect, a nearby doctor, that Emily and Reid were taking in before she had gone for lunch. With any luck, he would confess and the team could be done with all the bells and whistles by 8, but then they’d be back in the air tomorrow morning.

“We might have our guy confess in a few hours. I’m sure I can sneak out of here to meet Sam. We’ll meet at 9:30 at the motel I assume you and Sam are staying at. Rendezvous will be the graveyard entrance at 11pm just in case. Good?”

The other two people in the room nodded. JJ rose from her chair swiftly.

"Alright. let's do this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my homies hate John Winchester. 
> 
> be gentle dear readers i am but a poor, tired doctor living in Africa trying to not die from covid


	3. let the sunshine in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay we're going to pretend we're post season six pre season seven for supernatural and... hell like season 3 or 4 for criminal minds? Emily's there, JJ is still a liaison. Let's go with that.
> 
> dj qualls really did say gay rights i love him watch he's gonna show up.

JJ still had no idea how she managed to talk about why Daniels had wanted her to stay while she talked to Dean Winchester to Hotch and Morgan. She gave thinly veiled excuses that she was sure that they could see right through, but before they could question her motives Reid and Emily had made it back with their doctor and their attention turned to the case at hand. She was sure she’d be fielding questions about it for months to come.

Sam, his hair tied back and away from his face, looked from his shovel. They were both almost six feet down, covered in dirt and had just managed to reach the simple wooden coffin. 

“Sam?” JJ asked, stopping her shovel as well.

The man had an odd, pained look on his face. “Sorry. Headache.” he muttered. JJ frowned, but Sam ignored her, instead tossing his shovel outside the hole. JJ followed suit and together they yanked the coffin open, revealing yellow-looking bones in a nearly disintegrated white dress. JJ felt that old familiar sting she had begun to refer to, only to herself, as the Winchester Effect. It has always been a combination of guilt, pity, fear, along with a hint of exhilaration. Guilt for digging up graves, pity for those who hadn't found the chance to move on, fear at the idea of being caught digging up a grave (lord knows what it'll do to her career ambitions in the FBI). The last part, that secret thrill of being involved in something bigger than herself, bigger than her job, the secrecy of it all, that sense of belonging and doing something that's _just_ and _right_... well, JJ enjoyed being clued into their little secret.

It wasn't until Gideon had clued her in that she realized that there was a very (very) small group of law enforcement professionals across the country who knew the truth about what really was out there in the dark. It was an even smaller group of those who worked in the federal government. As far as JJ knew, there was only about ten federal employees who knew about the existence of the supernatural, including herself. While ten may seem like a solid group, compare that to the almost two-million federal employees, and the nearly 35,000 people employed by the FBI and the margins get smaller. JJ was only one of three in the FBI who knew the truth. One man worked for the DEA, another woman for the ATF, another four worked for the CIA, and one old man worked for the postal service. Still considered a federal employee but not quite crime fighting material, he did his best to make sure that certain, uh, _materials_ made their way safely through the post offices and across the country.

Once every few years they'd get together and compare notes. It was funny almost, seeing some high-ranking officials sitting in jeans and a t-shirt pouring over old case reports debating about who would win a fight; a Wendigo or a Werewolf. Still, there was never enough of them. JJ had thought about trying to expand, but it was gently explained to her that secrecy was paramount; if the wrong person got told they would have an international incident on their hands with scream of conspiracy theories. Still, JJ had been considering letting in someone on her team in on the secret, but she wasn't quite sure who would take the news the best.

“This is it.” Sam said.

He put his hands together and helped boost JJ out of the grave. She helped pull Sam out from the top of the grave. Sam handed her a container of salt and she dumped the contents all over the coffin and body.

This wasn’t the first time she had done this with Sam Winchester, and she was sure it wouldn’t be her last, but she still disliked it. She never helped out with these things unless she had to, normally she’d just watch the boys do it while she supervised. There was no way a normal human could get used to something like this. 

Still, as she watched Sam pull out a gas container and dump its contents into the grave, he seemed calm. Sure. He seemed like a normal human. But who knew?

Sam lit a match, the flame causing strange shadows to appear on his face. The sun was almost set now, and last JJ had checked her phone, the doctor had confessed and Daniels was working on getting Dean out of custody. She was a very good private lawyer for someone who was normally a public defender.

“Ready?” Sam asked her. JJ nodded, and Sam tossed the lit match. The grave caught fire with a  _ woosh  _ and began to smoke. “I hope she rests in peace.” JJ said, watching the wooden coffin smolder. The wood crackled in the heat.

“Me too.” Sam said softly, wiping his nose.

JJ squinted. In the dim light, she tried to make out the man’s face. She was shivering. The dup has tossed their coats by the graveside when they had gotten too sweaty after digging. JJ leant down and grabbed her coat, slipping into it. They were lucky the ground wasn’t too frozen to dig up the grave. However, it was still cold enough to make someone sick. JJ picked up Sam’s jacket.

“Sam?” she asked, walking closer to him.

Sam didn’t reply, so she moved in, right up to his face, his jacket still clutched in her hands. 

“Hey, Sam?”

In the dying light, JJ could see the blood leaking from Sam’s nose.

“Oh,” she said in a hushed whisper “That’s not good.”


	4. asking a shadow to dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise Reid is gonna show up soon
> 
> I am still in Africa
> 
> wash your hands, heathens 
> 
> <3

When Dean was finally released from custody, Daniels drove them to a fast food joint to pick up dinner before heading back to the motel that JJ had (correctly) surmised they were staying at. The sun had already set and a chill had settled in. Daniels and Dean watched the news as they ate their burgers, the weather man with fake teeth promising snow in the next few days.

As Mara quietly picked at her fries, Dean directly seized her up. She had been an invaluable help to him and his brother over the years, ever since she had helped them out at the Green River Facility. She was quick to help with little to no questions and had an unwavering faith about her. Dean and Sam had both called in for favors over the years, from being locked up to property papers, everything legal under the sun, she was their contact person.

Just like how JJ was.

Dean found himself perplexed by JJ. He had known her for years, since he was maybe 26 or 27. He had been more familiar with Gideon before that, but Gideon had always been more of his father’s contact than his. JJ was a tried and true link in the FBI. She was smart, too. Quick as whip, and able to find the cases that they would otherwise have missed. He knew that Sam met with her every few months to exchange cases and he rarely volunteered to go along. Honestly, she made him nervous, and he tried to keep his allies at an arm’s length. There had been too many friends who had helped them out over the years that he had liked immensely, only to be killed. JJ was married. She had a kid. She didn’t deserve that. 

One good thing about her was that she had no interest in being a hunter, she only kept her eyes peeled. She would never try to hunt something down, at least not without help. Not unlike some other blonde women he knew (Claire, cough cough)

  
  


He was thinking of JJ, wondering how her kid was, when the door to the motel burst open.

Dean was on his feet in an instant, hand on the knife he kept in his belt, thankfully returned when he was released from the police station. Surprisingly, Daniels also had a weapon pointed at the door, a small pistol she had pulled from out of nowhere.

“Dean!” JJ said, and he put his knife down.

JJ was standing in the doorway, covered in dirt, supporting Sam heavily on one side, his brother’s arm slung around her shoulders. He was barely standing on his own and was also covered in dirt. There was blood smeared on his face. JJ must have kicked the door open, because there was no way she would have been able to open it normally with his giraffe of a brother hanging onto her.

“What happened?” Dean asked, rushing to JJ and Sam. He slipped Sam’s free arm over his own shoulders and they half lifted/half drug Sam to the bed.

“‘Mm fine.” Sam uttered, eyes unfocused.

“No you’re not, you idiot.” JJ said, breathing heavily, now free from the weight of a whole man. She shrugged off her coat, visibly sweating. Daniels tossed her a water bottle which JJ caught gratefully. 

“We were just burning the grave when his nose started bleeding.”

_“What?”_

Dean felt a ripple of fear go through him.

“He said earlier he’s been having headaches.” JJ added helpfully as she uncapped the water. She took a sip.

Dean placed a hand on Sam’s forehead. He was burning up.

“Shit.” Dean said.

“What?” Daniels asked.

“Well, bleeding from the nose is never a good thing, especially not for Sam.” JJ told Daniels quickly. JJ hadn’t really been around for the whole ‘special children’ thing, but she had heard enough from the brothers to know that a bleeding nose and Sam Winchester were not a good pair.

“We’re going to need help.” Daniels said.

“I know.” Dean muttered. “Okay, uh…” he sort of spun around in a circle, eyes looking up. “Uh, hello? Castiel? This is me. Praying?”

“Oh god.” JJ muttered.

“No.” came a deep voice from behind her. She jumped in surprised and turned around. Behind her, or now in front of her, was a thin man wearing a trench coat. He had several days’ worth of stubble on his chin. He was handsome.

“Hello Dean.”

“Cas, we need some help. It’s about Sam.”

JJ had heard stories about Castiel before, but she had never met him in person. Daniels, however, must have met the angel before because she gave him a little nod of greeting which Castiel promptly ignored.

“Is he ill?”

“Yes, he’s freakin’ ill!” Dean exclaimed, motioning to the lump of man on the bed. Castiel frowned.

“I do not understand. Your brother is sick and you called me?”

“He’s not that kind of sick your furry dumbass.”

JJ cleared her throat, causing the two men to look at her. Jeez, you could cut the tension in the motel with a knife. A very dull knife.

“He’s been having headaches and his nose was bleeding before. Dean thinks it might be related to, uh, a certain demon.”

Castiel looked appropriately alarmed at this and looked back at Sam who was still laying on the bed.

“Who is this woman?” he asked Dean. JJ frowned.

“This woman is right here, you can just ask. I’m JJ. I work for the FBI. I help out your boyfriend and his brother from time to time.”

Dean sputtered. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Casitel looked confused. “Are you not of male gender identity and my friend?”

“Well yes-,”

“So are you not my boyfriend?”

“Look-,”

“That would make Sam your boyfriend too.” Daniels pointed out and Castiel frowned, considering.

“Yes that would make both Sam and Dean my boyfriends.”

Dean slapped a hand to his. “Okay, I’m going to have to explain this to you. Later. Right now we need help with Sam.”

The angel in a meat-suit put a gentle hand on Sam’s forehead and Dean glared at JJ.

“You know exactly what you did.”

JJ hid her laugh with a cough.

“Sam? Sam, can you hear me?” Castiel said, his hand withdrawn from Sam’s forehead. He gently shook Sam by the shoulder.

Sam shot up like a bullet, and it was as if a burst of wind out of nowhere blew through the room. JJ herself was thrown back into the cheap motel wall, leaving a crumbling dent in her wake. She fell to the floor heavily. When she managed to pull herself up, dizzy and winded up otherwise okay, she saw that small wooden desk in the room had been thrust back and over, right on top of Daniels. 

Sam was back on the bed as still as a dead man. Only Dean and Castiel seemed to have been unaffected by the sudden pull of intangible force. The angel was gripping Dean tightly by his shoulder. They both seemed okay.

JJ moved over to the desk. It was pinning the lawyer to the floor. JJ got up into a kneeling position.

“Hey, you okay?” she asked.

Daniels' voice came from under the desk. “Fine!” she called. “Get this off me.” she said. JJ gripped one end of the desk, ready to pull. The other woman didn’t actually seem to have been hurt by the desk, it had just surprised her. She was safely pinned by the desk under the part where the chair would have been pushed in if the desk had been upright.

“Well at least we know the telepathy is back.” Dean muttered. JJ paused, still kneeling by the desk.

“The _what_?” 

The door to the room burst open.


	5. chapter 5, or, the one in which reid is very freaked out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i am but a tired doctor please let me sleep wash your hands and wear your masks you dickheads

Reid put the phone down and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His head was pounding now, probably from the stress of the whole serial killer affair.

He was sitting in their borrowed office at a borrowed desk in a borrowed chair a the police station and had just got off the phone with the DA. He and Emily had brought their suspect into the station only a few hours ago, and he had confessed quickly. The DA was even quicker to charge him with the four murders over the past month.

With the paperwork all settled, they would be leaving for Virginia in the morning. It was late now, Reid was sure it was only him still at the office.

The door opened, and Reid knew that he had guessed incorrectly that the rest of the team. It was Hotch, tie loosened in the way he allowed it to be right after a case. He was frowning, which wasn’t unusual for Hotch, but it was unusual considering they had just caught their UNSUB.

“What’s going on?” Reid found himself asking.

“We had Dean Winchester in custody. His lawyer managed to get him out. He’s gone into the wind now.”

Reid’s heart skipped a beat. Not everyone knew about the Winchesters, but the ones who did either hated or adored them. The two brothers had a record longer than the Geneva Convention, but they had died in a massive explosion at a sheriff’s office years ago.

“But-, he’s dead?”

“No, he’s not. I don’t know how, but he’s alive. We just just lost our best shot at catching him.”

Reid wrinkled his nose in quiet thought. “What about the brother?”

Hotch sighed. “As far as we know, dead. But if one brother survived that explosion, I don’t doubt the other did as well.”

Reid could sense his boss’ distaste for the Winchester brothers. Hotch’s mentor, Hendrickson, who had been in large part the reason why Hotch had switched from law to the FBI, had been killed in that explosion, and he was sure that the brother had something to do with it.

“I called some old contacts who knew the Winchesters back then. A deputy Hudak in Minnesota swore to Dean Winchester’s character. A detective in major crimes, Ballard, swears up and down that the Winchesters saved her life and helped her catch a killer. Everyone I’ve called seems to believe that the Winchester brothers are good men.”

“That is a lot of consistent opinions. Maybe they are.” Reid offered.

“I don’t buy it.” Hotch grumbled. “Get some sleep. Wheels up at 8 am.” Hotch said to Reid, who nodded.

Hotch left, leaving Reid alone in the office. Now he was the last BAU member in the building. He tried to ignore his pulsing headache as stood up. He quietly packed up his borrowed desk, papers and all, double checking that he had cleaned up properly after himself.

He was about to leave, his hand on the door knob, when he suddenly saw an image in his mind. 

_ A woman dressed in a sharp suit, looking over a bed in a seedy looking motel where a tall man was lying. Another man in a trench coat with a hand on the other’s forehead. Standing next to the bed, Dean Winchester. Next to one of the most wanted men in the country, with her arms crossed, is JJ. _

Reid blinked and shook his head. 

_ What the-? _

How in the ever living heck had Reid seen that. Why would JJ be with Dean Winchester? Who was the guy in the trench coat? 

Something wet was leaking from his nose. Reid wiped it away and looked at his hand. Blood. He grabbed the top of his shirt wrist cuff and wiped the blood away, sniffing in the metallic smelling liquid. He wondered, briefly, if he had had a seizure.

He closed his eyes, trying to recall the scene. It was a motel, sure. How many motels were in Mobile, Alabama?

_ Think. Think. _

On average there would be about 16 motels in any downtown area this side of the Mississippi. JJ didn’t have a car. How many were in walking distance? Reid pulled his phone from his pocket and looked up the motels in the area. There were three within walking distance from the police station. One was temporarily closed down for repairs, the other had a pink color scheme that didn’t match what Reid had..seen. That left one motel, a seven minute walk away from the police station.

Reid put his phone back in his pocket, heart thudding. He could make it in five if he walked with purpose.

He made sure the door locked behind him and started for the motel, walking at a quick pace, almost a jog but not quite, until he arrived in a seedy looking motel parking lot. He glanced over the cars, stopping when he saw an old looking muscle car. It looked like an Impala, which he recalled reading on a police report years ago regarding the Winchesters. It was parked in front of room 40 on the ground floor.

_ Biblical numerology, _ Reid thought weakly.

Reid walked right up to the door and placed an ear up to thin wooden paneling, trying to listen for anything. Muffled voices came through the door, but nothing the man could clearly make out. There was a mix of male and female voices, one deep the other lilted and fair. There was no clear sign that JJ was even there. It was only one major, statistical coincidence. It had to be. There was no way that JJ would be hanging around wanted criminals.

Then the shouting came. Clearly, Reid heard, through the door and the brisk winter air, JJ’s shout. There was a clattering noise, like things being thrown about. He jumped, and tried the door. It was unlocked. He pushed it open.

“JJ!”

All the eyes in the room turned to him.

JJ was there alright, and so were the other woman and the three men that Reid had imagined. A few chairs were on their sides, turned over. An old wooden desk was on top of the woman, who was laying on the floor. JJ was kneeling next to the woman, her hands on the desk.

There was a man with long hair sitting up on the bed, looking like the walking dead. The man in the trench coat had a firm, protective grip on Dean Winchester’s shoulder.

“Spence?” JJ asked, surprised. Reid noticed for the first time that she was covered in dirt, like she had been trying to dig a very, very big hole or had gotten stuck in a landslide.

Reid blinked once. Twice.

“Uh,” Reid managed out.

“Who is the man?” The guy in the trench coat asked, his grip on Winchester still firm. JJ cleared her throat, caught off guard.

“He’s a friend. Spencer Reid. It’s okay.”

“Ah, another boyfriend.”

_ “No.” _

The man holding Winchester didn’t seem too convinced, but he did relax his death grip on the guy. Trench coat guy had really long eyelashes, Reid noted. 

“Here to arrest my client?” The woman under the desk said. JJ turned attention back to the desk and gripped the edges as she moved the desk off the woman.. The woman stood up and brushed off her suit. “Because he was cleared this evening.” 

“Mara, are you alright?” JJ asked. The woman, Mara, nodded. “Just fine, dear, thank you.”

“I’m not here to arrest Dean.” Reid said, perplexed.

“How did you-,” JJ stuttered over her words as she stood up. One of her pant legs were torn, revealing what looked like a skinned knee.

“Spence what are you doing here?” she asked.

“I- uh, I saw you. I got worried.” he tried to explain. Dean Winchester frowned. “You  _ saw _ her? Here?” he demanded. 

He brushed off the other man’s grip on his arm, causing the guy in the trench coat to frown and stare at Dean's shoulder. The emotion in his gaze made Reid's stomach flip. He had seen that type of look in his mother's face. It was like the trench coat guy like he was remembering something that happened a long time ago.

“Yeah, uh, yes.”

“You don’t have a camera on her all the time do you?”

“No.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Reid saw the blood drain from JJ’s face as she paled. Dean walked up to him and glanced at Reid’s shirt sleeve, still bloodied.

“Did your nose bleed?’ Dean asked accusingly. 

“Why does that matter?”

JJ groaned like Reid’s reply had been one she had been expecting but dreading. She placed a hand to her forehead. “Oh god.”

The man in the trench coat furrowed his eyebrows, his face contorting in confusion. “No, why do you keep saying that?”

“It’s a figure of speech, Castiel.” Mara gently corrected. 

“Ah. Like, ‘hungry enough to eat a horse’ to signify that you are very hungry, when in fact you are not physically capable of eating the horse.” The man, Castiel, nodded affirmatively to himself.

“By George, I think he’s got it.” Mara said.

“Who is George?”

JJ ignored the question and walked up to Reid. She wrapped him in a brief, warm hug, not caring that she was getting loose dirt on his sweater vest. She withdrew, but placed her hands on either side of his shoulders, gripping tightly, examining his face. She looked worried.

“I think we need to explain a few things.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and i oop-,


End file.
